


'Cause in the Madness (there is a perfection)

by maybe_we_were



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M, Natasha Needs a Hug, POV Steve Rogers, Past Relationship(s), Protective Steve Rogers, Romance, Steve Rogers Feels
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-24
Updated: 2016-01-24
Packaged: 2018-05-16 01:59:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,233
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5809147
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/maybe_we_were/pseuds/maybe_we_were
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Emotions are running high after Steve sees Bucky is alive and Natasha finds out the truth about Fury.  How each seeks comfort isn't what either was expecting- but it's exactly what they need.</p>
            </blockquote>





	'Cause in the Madness (there is a perfection)

**Author's Note:**

> Hey there! I'm sorry I haven't been on in forever, but the good news is, I should have more time to be on now that I graduated. Here's another Steve/Nat fic that I have wanted to write for a while but wasn't sure how to put into words. Here's my best shot :) I hope you enjoy!

_What just happened?_

That’s the thought that keeps running through Steve’s head. 

HYDRA is taking over SHIELD.

Forget that, HYDRA has _taken over_ SHIELD.

Natasha was shot. 

Fury is alive. 

_Bucky_ is alive. 

It’s the last statement that’s practically screaming in his mind.  Because while it’s Bucky in the physical sense, it’s not the Bucky he knew seventy-five years ago.  If he didn’t know better, he’d almost say he got sucked into some weird time warp (a reference he now gets).  Still, the man he saw had such a look of hatred on his face, it almost made him utterly unrecognizable.  It also helps Steve know that certainly isn’t the 1940’s, nor was that the same man he knew in that time period.   

Steve is pacing the small room that Fury just vacated, trying to make sense of everything.  He hasn’t come up with much beyond needing to take down HYDRA and saving Bucky, even if it means he might not be around to control the aftermath.  He’s still pacing when he hears it, someone calling his name in the quiet of SHIELD’s new headquarters.

Instinct and recognition tells him it is Natasha, her feminine tone filling the air, from the next room over.  He immediately walks into the room and pushes aside the medical curtain, which was placed there while the doctor worked on her shoulder.  He finds her resting in a chair that hardly looks comfortable.  The red hair that brushes the white bandage on her shoulder is a stark difference, but what’s concerning is how pale her face is in comparison.  The black tank top she’s wearing contributes to it, he’s sure, but it doesn’t make it any less alarming. 

“Nat, you ok?” he asks, placing a warm hand on her good arm.  The skin there is covered in goosebumps, showing how cold she is. 

“The doctor patched me up really well, I just need some rest,” she replies, her mouth turning up at the corners, “I just…”

Steve waits to hear the rest, but when all that reaches his ears is silence, he really takes a second to look at her.  Her eyes are glistening and her lower lip is trembling the slightest bit.  Her breath is coming out quicker, too, but as soon as he notices all of this, her lips press together and it’s like a switch has been flipped. 

Steve’s even more confused now, her change in emotions almost giving him whiplash.  He hesitantly starts running his thumb over the bare skin of her arm, waiting for an indication if he should say something or not.  He decides on the former, knowing that the best way to break down the wall she built up is by being straightforward. 

“Nat,” he murmurs, “what’s wrong?  Talk to me.” 

The great thing about Natasha is that she doesn’t pretend like nothing is wrong when something clearly is.  She shows her emotions (other than sadness) fiercely, to those whom she trusts.  So far (if Steve’s observations are correct), that list is pretty small: Clint, Maria, Sam, Nick, and himself.  Most would take the way she banters with Barton as their way of annoying each other, but in reality, it’s to show how much they care for one another.  And based off their earlier conversation at Sam’s house, she knows he trusts him as implicitly as he trusts her. 

The skin he’s stroking shifts out of his reach, Natasha moving her arm when she stands up from the chair and begins walking back and forth.  It’s as if she’s preparing herself for what she is going to say.  Her long, dainty fingers fiddle together, coming to a stop just as she stops in front of him.  Her eyes pierce his, so intent, so focused, that he misses what she first says, catching the tail end of it. 

“…about Clint.  And Fury?!” her voice, an octave higher and a bit louder, “How could he do that?”

_What is she talking about?_

His eyebrows involuntarily knit together, forming two worry lines.  She must take his silence as a chance to continue.

“Steve,” his first name tumbling out of her mouth, which is unusual, “he _died_.  Well, not really, but now he’s alive and he was sitting there like it was no big deal that he didn’t say anything.  He’s the closest thing I have to a father and he _didn’t think_ to find a way to let me know he was okay?”

Her eyelashes flutter quickly, pushing back the tears that were forming in her eyes.

Steve, at this point, is absolutely speechless.  Although his mouth can’t form words, his mind is racing.  He notices everything from the light flush that covers her cheeks to the slight shake of her hands.  Natasha is so tough, so adaptable, that to see her shaken up like this has done something to him.  He feels the need to protect, comfort, help, in any way possible. 

_Damn._

The need to take away the pain is overwhelming, washing over him in continuous waves.  He has to do something, anything, to erase that look.  If you asked him later what he was thinking when he did what he was about to do, he still wouldn’t have an answer.  Something sparks in his brain that tells him he just _has_ to kiss her, so he takes her flushed cheeks in his hands and lowers his face to hers.  Screw the fact that they are in the middle of chaos, that they are partners. 

Lips meet softer lips, slow and tender.  It’s chaste, by most standards, two pairs of lips meeting and slightly parting before they pull away.  The next kiss starts out the same as the first, before quickly changing to something more heated.  Gone are the careful touches, which are replaced by rough, heart-quickening kisses.  It’s like he’s trying to pull the sadness out by pressing harder against her lips.  In actuality, he should be freaking out, but Natasha is responding in kind.  His worries ebb away, at least for the time being. 

His hands move to her hips, then to her lower back, while hers run up his arms and come to rest on his shoulders.  He slows down the kiss again before finally breaking it.  Head bent down, his forehead rests against hers and his hand tighten around her on their own accord. 

Natasha lets out a sharp breath, which Steve can feel against his lips.  Her voice comes out as a whisper.

“Why,” she pauses, “did you do that?” 

She doesn’t sound upset or angry, more like she’s in disbelief.  Funnily, he was almost expecting a reprimand.  Still, the question catches him off guard, partly because he doesn’t really know the answer himself. 

“You looked and sounded so upset.  I just had to.” 

There’s a lot more he’d like to say, but keeps quiet to hear her response. 

Natasha doesn’t say anything, just presses one last sharp kiss to his lips and walks away. 

Steve’s left standing there, questioning what happened.  Unfortunately, that’s been something he’s been doing a lot over the past forty-eight hours.  He’d like to catch up to her and figure it out, but there are other pressing matters at hand.  So, Steve does what he does best, getting back into the military mindset and hopes that when they do make it out of this, they can finish the conversation they barely started.


End file.
